Facing One's Demons
by mtac11
Summary: With news of his dying Uncle, Harry is forced to return to London to face the toubles of his past. In more ways than one. Is he ready for these confrontations from the past? Lets find out! AU HP/RW, HP/OC others.
1. When Family Calls

**Facing one's Demons**

**By Harry's Heros**

"Here's your mail Mr. Potter"

"Thank you Cynthia, I appreciate it" Harry said, smiling at the delicate, blonde secretary who placed his stack of mail on his desk in his office at the American Magic Administration (Ministry of Magic).

Harry Potter, age 23 years old and Vice- Head Auror had lived a quiet life of dark wizard catching and American television for 5 years, ever since he left London, left his best friends and left…._him._ Harry quickly rose through the ranks of the American Aurors since his arrival, mostly due in part to his defeat of Lord Voldemort 6 years prior.

"Invitation to the Administration Ball….. Letter from Fred and George… huh?" Harry muttered to himself quietly as he filtered through his mail. Instead of the bright colored envelops written with the variously colored and glittery inks (which often left sprinkles o glitter on his desk) he was accustomed to getting from other magical folks, he stumbled across an ordinary white envelope written in standard black ink. With his curiosity intensified, he carefully opened the letter and skimmed it with a soft gasp.

"_Dear Harry,_

_How have you been doing? Haven't seen/spoken to you in quite some time. Everything is going well on this end. I just recently graduated from the University and plan on getting married soon. I hope everything is going well with you. Have you graduated from that school of yours yet, Hog-something….."_

Harry couldn't help but let out a groan in frustration at the insulting play on his first true home's name.

"_But I bet you're wondering why I'm writing to you after so much time. Well, dad has been diagnosed with a terminal illness and I'm afraid that he doesn't have too much time left. I know you, mum and dad didn't really get along all that much when we were younger…"_

"Didn't really get along? That's the understatement of the century…." Harry muttered darkly as he took a sip of his afternoon tea before resuming his reading.

"_and I know you and I didn't really care for one another growing up, and most if not all of that is my fault. However, it really would mean so much to me at least if you could come and see dad one last time. I know you're probably wondering why you should go see dad before his time is up, and to be perfectly honest, I can't really give you an answer. But I sincerely hope that if you don't come for him, at least come or mum. And if not for mum then at least me._

_Hope to SEE you soon,_

_Your Cousin Dudley Dursley._

Harry sat motionless for a few minutes while re-reading the letter absentmindedly. Inside his thoughts were going hundreds of miles an hour.

'_Should I even bother going? They hate mate and I pretty much hate them…'_ Harry thought strongly as he folded his letter and sat quietly in reflection. His reflection was brought to an abrupt end when Cynthia wondered back into his office. Her sparkling smile vanished upon seeing the distressed look on Harry's face.

"Is there something… stupid question" Cynthia cut herself off. "What's wrong Mr. Potter? You look really down in the dumps" Cynthia finished, taking a seat in front of Harry's desk. Is was customary for Harry to vent to Cynthia in times where he was depressed by something, or frustrated with some of the more junior Aurors or Administration politics. Cynthia truly served as a trusted confidant to Harry over the last couple of years.

"Nothing really… just that I got a letter from my cousin Dudley is all." Harry mumbled, still staring into space.

"Mmhmm and?"

"Well, you see… me and the Dursleys pretty much hate each other. They hated the fact that I was a wizard and made my childhood worse than hell." Harry paused, while Cynthia nodded in understanding and an indicator to continue.

"Well, apparently my Uncle Vernon is umm.. sick and doesn't have much time left and Dudley is requesting that I come and visit before he uh… goes through the Veil (A/N: 3rd year reference… gotta love it lol).

Cynthia looked at Harry with a questioning look on her face as Harry got up to look outside of his window in contemplation.

"So, what's the problem sir? Can't get the time off?" Cynthia asked slowly. Harry turned around and sat on his window sill, looking at Cynthia with a 'what the hell?' look on his face.

"The PROBLEM is Cynthia, I don't know if I really should or really want to go? These are the people who treated me as if I were the dirt between a dog's toes. They made me live in a cupboard until I was 11 and took almost every opportunity to make me miserable… why should I go see that prick before he dies?" Harry stated, voice slowly growing louder with intensity.

Cynthia merely looked at her boss and gave a heavy sigh "I understand Mr. Potter. I honestly feel that you should"

"But…"

"But nothing sir. I mean no disrespect, but regardless of the hell you've gone through, they're still your family. They still put clothes on your back, food in your stomach and a roof over your head…"

"Just barely and…"

"AND Mr. Potter sir, they could have certainly cast you aside and you wouldn't be where you are today. Think about it this way.." Cynthia said firmly, as she stood up from her chair and walked to the door, "How would you feel if your Uncle passed, and you weren't there. You'll live the rest of your life with resentment and unresolved issues all because you're being too stubborn. **Sir**." Cynthia added before walking out of Harry's office.

Flabbergasted, Harry slumped into his office chair. He had really hoped he wouldn't have to return to Europe for the rest of his life. Returning would mean facing his dying Uncle and his other relatives, possibly facing the two friends with whom he departed from on less than friendly terms, and worst of all possibly facing the love of his life who he could never quite get over.

Deciding that Cynthia was probably right, he wrote a brief letter to Fred and George, asking if he could stay with them for a week. Placing a fire-resistant charm on the letter, he threw some flew powder into his in-office fire place and called out "Weasley Wizarding Wheezes Headquarters" before flooing his letter to the twins.

After the letter was on it's way, he reached into the lower most drawer of his desk and pulled out a bottle of Firewhiskey and a shot class. _'If I'm having to face three beasts at once, I'm going to need this'_

A/N: How was that for my first chapter. There's more to come folks! Please read and review, it takes mere seconds and it would be great!


	2. Travel Arrangements

A/N: So it's been a few years since I've updated this story. I'm sincerely sorry to those who've been waiting for it, writers block is no joke. I'll try to make a better effort to keep this updated (provided the reviews keep coming in haha)

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><p>Life was not all sunshine and roses for one Ronald Weasley and it hasn't been since Harry's abrupt departure a few years ago. Spending your days, constantly trying to discover what it was, if anything, you did to drive your best friend away was a sure way to bring about a case of depression.<p>

Ron too was 23 years old and held a job at the Ministry of Magic in London, working in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Ron's life consisted mostly of going to work then apparating to his flat in the suburbs of London where he read, drank heavily, sat in reflection, or drank heavily. Fred and George would pop in occasionally in vain attempts to drag him out to have something resembling a social life but often times, their attempts were in vain.

00000

As Ron sat in his dismal gray cubicle at the Ministry of Magic, taking time to read the morning paper. Taking a sip of his ever-cooling tea, he grimaced in dissatisfaction at the lackluster taste. As he placed a quick warming charm on his mug, a tall, blonde witch strode confidently into his space.

"Weasley, I need you to process these new international port-key requests. And do it soon!" Hilda Flipanghast snapped, dragging Ron out of his thoughts of life and Harry.

Hilda Flipanghast had to be one of the most annoying and for lack of a better term, evil, co-workers Ron could have imagined working with. She reminded him strongly of Rita Skeeter with her penchant for office gossip, and her constant attempts to pawn her work off on those she personally deemed "her subordinates."

And Ron had the misfortune of being classified as such.

"Hilda, you know I have nothing to do with port-key requests… besides, that's YOUR job" Ron muttered, eyeing the not-so-small stack of forms Flipanghast dropped on his desk.

"What's your point Weasley? Besides, I'm way too busy to get to these today and there are some important ones that came in. Do you want to explain to Shay why international VIPs don't receive their portkeys?" Flipanghast chided with a sickly honeyed voice.

"I don't have to Hilda because that isn't my job. I run the floo-stations not port-keys." Rom rebutted.

"Whatever Weasley, just do it" Hilda snapped again, curling her platinum blonde hair as she strode out of Ron's cubicle.

"Whatever Weasley, just do it cause I'm a lazy bit-" Ron muttered darkly, before Hilda poked her head around the opening of his cubicle.

"Say something Weasley?" Hilda asked, narrowing her beady, green eyes back at the red head.

"Nothing Hilda." Ron said, plastering the fakest smile he could muster on his face. Nodding with a shit-eating grin on her face, Hilda finally left, walking down the hall with her shoes clacking as she walked.

Letting out a small snarl, Ron began to leaf through the requests, placing a magical approval stamp on each one. As a stamp was affixed to each one, the form magically disappeared to port-key scheduling. Ron often thought that processes were redundant at the Ministry.

Ron continued his monotonous stamping until he ran across a familiar name:

**Name**: _Potter, Harry J._

**Ministry of Origin**: _American Magic Administration, United States_

**Reason for Travel**: _Family Emergency_

**Desired Departure Date, Time, Location**: _As soon as possible, any time, San Francisco, CA_

Ron leaned back heavily against his slightly uncomfortable chair with trepidation. "Harry is coming back. Harry is coming back. Harry is coming back" No matter how Ron said it, it didn't sit any better with him.

As Ron sat contemplating what Harry's return could mean, his distraught slowly turned into anger. "So, the bastard is finally coming home. Good…" He thought darkly. Ron scribbled down a time and date of departure for the next day (even though that too wasn't his area) and approved the form, which disappeared shortly afterwards.

"Welcome back Harry… I have a few things I would like to say to you…"

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry to hear about your family situation Potter. Are you ok?" Thomas Shields, the Head Auror for the AMA asked, eyes softening in concern.<p>

With 60 years of life and at least 300 captures of dark American wizards and witches under his belt, life had hardened Shields into a blunt and stone hard man who rarely expressed compassion and empathy visually. Harry happened to be one of the select few that managed to catch a glimpse at any form of emotion from the seasoned Auror.

"Yes sir. To be quite honest with you, I'd be perfectly fine not going back to London and facing what's there, waiting for me but if I had to tack a feeling onto this, I suppose I'm feeling obligated" Harry grimaced.

"Yes, I understand Potter. Not everyone can be born into happy family lives but family is family and there is always a sense of obligation where they're concerned." Shields said as he lowered his gaze back to Harry's vacation request. "Your time off is granted. Dismissed"

Harry gave Shields a curt nod at the dismissal and quickly left his office. Everyone in the Auror department at the American Magic Administration knew that staying for more than a second after being dismissed by Shields was not a pretty sight.

00000

As Harry rejoined the hustle and bustle of the AMA, his thoughts continued to whirl around in his mind at a rapid pace. Thoughts of seeing the Dursleys again, possibly run-ins with old acquaintances of the magic variety, and of Ron sunk Harry's usually mellow thoughts into those of melancholy.

"I seriously don't know why I'm even bothering with this" Harry thought darkly as he continued his trip to the Floo-ports. "it's not as if there is anyone or anything waiting for me there."

As Harry continued along the crowded walkways of the Administration, he gave nods of greeting to people whom he would classify as friends or random colleagues that he had met once or twice before. Being in the American Ministry was a breath of fresh air for Harry as he became a normal wizard of high rank and not THE Harry Potter, the boy who lived, the golden boy, the one who vanquished the Dark Lord or any of the other rubbish titles that British wizards bestowed on him.

"Harry! Wait up!" he heard a loud, booming voice yell behind him. Thoughts being on London, he vaguely heard a bit of his old friend Hagrid's voice in the deep bass tone of his friend, Brandon Brasswater.

"Brandon, where's the fire?" Harry smirked, looking at the flushed face of his close friend of the last 5 years. At an astounding 6'4 and 240lbs of muscle with a gut and a five o'clock shadow, Brandon was definitely a feast for the eyes. Brandon was a frequent visitor in the dreams of numerous witches and wizards, (Harry himself included).

"Wouldn't you like to know, Lover Boy" Brandon purred, running a calloused hand across Harry's chest in a seductive manner. Brandon had no trouble expressing his attraction towards Harry through a series of sexual advances, regardless of where they might happen to be.

Chucking, Harry knocked Brandon's hand off of him with a smirk. "I wonder what Todd would say if he knew you came on to me as much as you do." Todd was Brandon's boyfriend who worked at Mt. Gilmore's Magical Medical Bay as a doctor.

"Probably ask me to bring you home so he can have a piece, rawr! Besides, you know as well as I do that Todd finds you pretty f-ing hot" Brandon laughed as he reached around to pinch Harry's pert ass.

"Whatever Brandon, I'm sure you didn't scream my name down the hall just so you can molest me" Harry said with a smile.

"And you would be right Harry m'man, this came in for you at your office. Cynthia was going to owl it to your apartment but I told said 'Cynth, why exhaust an owl when I can get it to him'"

"What? No dirty remark added on to the end of that?" Harry laughed as he playfully snatched the letter from Brandon's grip.

"I might have added that you love it when I'm sweaty and exhausted, but I don't think she was cool with that. Besides, why waste an owl's time to send you a letter just to tell you that your port-key is set up?"

"Figures and how many times do I have to tell you not to read my mail?" Harry muttered, opening the letter which indeed informed him that his port-key would depart from the Administration tomorrow.

"And how many times do I have to tell you that as your best friend, I have every right to read your mail? Have a good trip Har!" Brandon grinned widely before giving Harry a peck on the cheek and rushed back down the hall before Harry could respond.

Harry merely stood , shaking his head as he re-read the letter, Brandon's welcome distraction already forgotten as memories of why he needed a port-key flooded his mind once more.

"I guess this is it… tomorrow, I go back"


	3. A Stick in the Mud

**Yet a long awaited installment. I know, I stink at the whole updating thing. School tends to catch up with with you. Hope this chapter was worth the wait.**

"Wait, what do you mean Harry's coming back? How do you know? How do you feel?" Hermione questioned as he sat at Ron's modest kitchen table later that evening. The light cream colored walls of the tiny kitchen in Ron's apartment, clashed horribly with Ron's fiery red hair, yet added a homey element to his home.

"Yes Hermione, it's a family emergency...at least that's what his port key request said" Ron muttered darkly while searching his fridge for a ice cold butterbeer.

Hermione raised a delicate eyebrow at Ron's tone but didn't question further. "...and I know, because I was the one who processed his bloody request form. And before you start screeching about 'Ron, you work with the floo network why would you do portkeys...'" Ron said, mimicking Herimone's lofty tone "You can thank our friend Hilda for dumping her work on me. Again"

Having successfully located his desired drink, Ron joined his friend at the table. As Hermione sipped at the lemon tea that Ron had provided her earlier, Ron gave her a thoughtful look, realizing it had been way too long since he caught up with the not-so-bushy haired woman in a while. As a professor of Muggle Studies at Hogwarts, it left Hermione with less time for casual conversations than the two of them would like.

"Well, how that cow is still employed, I'll never know but you didn't answer my question" Hermione said, breaking into Ron's thoughts.

"Hell, which one? You asked like a million of them at once."

"Don't take that tone with me Ronald, you know which one. How. Do. You. FEEL?" Hermione threw back slowly, not giving Ron the chance to evade the question.

As Ron spent the better part of the last few years ripping into Harry about his disappearance in anger every chance he got, she thought it was odd that he was more reserved in sharing his feelings about their long lost friend's impending arrival.

"If you must know Madam Psyciatrist, I'm bloody pissed. He dissappears for 5 years, not a word to either of us and then waltzes back into the country and still no word. I found out by chance." Ron gritted out, face slowly turning red with anger. "When I see him, I won't have a shortage of things to say to him."

Hermione simply nodded as she sipped her tea, knowing better than to attempt to quell the red head. His infamous temper from their Hogwarts days remained in tact over time. The two sat in companionable silence for a bit, one thinking of angry thoughts and bitter feelings and another thinking of years worth of catching up.

* * *

><p>Nine in the morning came too early for one Harry Potter. As his alarm charm took effect, he mumbled dark thoughts as he slowly climbed out of bed. Harry took his time getting ready for his international journey, enjoying a leisurely shower and shave before settling down for a bagel with plain cream cheese. Bagels, something that Harry rarely, if ever, indulged in back in London, has become one of Harry's favorite breakfast foods.<p>

As Harry took intermittent bites of his breakfast, he simply started at a blank piece of parchment next to his plate. "I suppose I should at least tell Dudley I'm coming..." Harry thought as he contemplated what to write.

Glancing briefly at the large digital clock on the opposite wall, Harry swore as he realized that it was quickly approaching 10am, the time his portkeys was scheduled to depart. Scribbling a brief "I'm coming, -Harry"' he quickly folded the note up, wrote Dudley's address before pocketing it then rushed to grab his pre-packed suitcase.

Taking one last look around his apartment, Harry sighed as he gathered a scoop of floo powder in his free hand before bellowing "American Magic Administration Building" before being engulfed in the emerald green flames that entail flooing.

* * *

><p><strong>7 hour time difference later (approximately 5pm the same day)<strong>

"George you idiot, Harry likes red velvet cake not strawberry" Fred laughed as he eyed the cake and dinner George was busy taking out from the multiple grocery bags.

"Fred you dunce, Harry isn't picky" George retorted before turning his gaze to their little brother Ron, lazily sitting on the couch. "Oy Ronnikins, you could at least give us a hand setting up"

"Why would I? It's just Harry." Ron said, taking another sip of the firewhiskey he had been nursing for the last half hour.

Fred and George shared a look at that, completely understanding Ron's less than pleasant response but nonetheless irritated at Ron's seemingly insistence on being a stick in the mood. "Well, if you're so nonchalant about Harry's homecoming, then why are you even here?" George muttered.

"Yeah, here and sucking up our good liquor" Fred added, walking over to snatch the glass out of Ron's hands. He and Ron had gotten in plenty of arguements over Ron's apparent overindulgence of alcohol.

"Trust me, I won't be here long. Just long enough to give Harry a piece of my mind." Ron said with a hint of malice in his voice.

"Oh no you won't." Fred said, having sat the still half full glass of firewhiskey on a nearby table. "You're not going to ruin Harry's homecoming with your angst."

"I completely agree Freddy m'boy. You've been acting like a right bitch over the whole Harry leaving thing and if you can't forgive him like all his other friends have, I wonder if you were ever really his friend"

Ron opened and closed his mouth mutely, floored at the twin's mature attitude. "Wow, you almost sound mature George... Like a normal person" Ron smirked.

Letting out a low growl, George stomped over and hoisted Ron off the black leather couch by his ear, in a very Mollyesque fashion, before leading him to the door. Before pointedly escorting his younger sibling out of the front door, George leaned in to whisper sternly in Ron's ear.

"One of us has to be mature and since it obviously won't be you, I see no reason for you to stay. Harry already isn't coming back on better terms and if you want to start a war with him cause he left you brokenhearted, then that's your business. But you sure as hell won't be doing it here, tonight. Go home, think about how you're going to tell Harry you love him cause it's completely obvious, even to the dumbest squib out there, and catch him later." George whispered before shutting the door resolutely in Ron's shocked face.

As Ron stood outside the now closed door of the twins flat, his thoughts began whizzing around faster than a Firebolt. "There's no way I could love an asshole like Harry. Yeah, George is nuts." Alrighty, there's chapter 3. I hope to have another chapter out relatively soon.

** Please review, it means so much**


	4. Welcome Home to the Hospital

**Alrighty, there's chapter 4. I hope to have another chapter out relatively soon. Please review, it means so much.**

"EEEEK! Harry!" Hermione shreeked as she tumbled from Fred and George's fireplace. Hermione wasted no time rushing over to her long lost friend to embrace him in a must stronger than he remembered hug.

"Hi Her...mione" Harry choked out, as he accepted and returned Hermione's bone crushing hug. Fred and George stood back, laughing at the heartwarming sight, not having the heart to make a joke.

As Hermione finally pulled back from Harry slightly, he noticed the glimmer of unshed tears his her eyes. Her features seemed to have remained quite constant over the years.

"It's good to..." Harry started before he was sharply cut off by an unexpected slap to the face. "Hermione, what the f..." Harry started, his eyes wide with shock as he rubbed his now throbbing cheek.

"Harry James Potter, 5 years with no word from you, no visit, no anything!" Hermione said relatively calmly. It was painfully obvious to everyone in the room that Hermione was exercising great restraint to appear calm. The only indicator of anger was her steadily redding face.

Harry couldn't help but take notice of his very interesting shoes as Hermione ranted viciously about Harry's lack of consideration for his friends and family. "Does Molly know he's here?! You know she'll be in a right state when she finds out." Hermione asked, now turning to the laughing twins by the kitchen.

"Haha you know mum..." Fred started, stifling his laughter.

"If she knew he was here..." George chimed in

"We'd all know about it" Fred finished, walking over over to Harry, giving him a brotherly pat on the back.

"Well, you are going to go see her aren't you Harry? It would mean the world to her and Arthur to see you!" Hermione said, now seeming more calm as she settled into the plush couch.

"I will at some point. I have some family matters to deal with tomorrow." Harry muttered, taking a seat next to the young woman.

"Yeah, Ronald mentioned something about that" Hermione said.

Harry couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that statement, wondering how Ron knew.

"Ronald works at the Ministry. He approved the international portkeys request when it came in" Hermione provided, noticing the confused look on her friends face.

"Ah I see. Where is he anyway?" Harry asked.

Hermione gave the twins a "a little help here" look which wasn't returned as the twins chose to be conveniently busy with finishing dinner for their small party.

"That's not important right now. What's important is that you have 5 years to tell us about" Hermione stated, pointedly avoiding the question. Harry, choosing to ignore that point for the time being.

"Well... There isn't really much to tell. I work the American Magic Administration, I live a quiet life outside of the limelight. Nothing special really. What's been going on here?"

"Quite a bit has happened since you've been gone Harry." Hermione paused, trying to figure out where to start. "Who do you want to know about?"

"Everyone I suppose" Harry shrugged, not really caring whom she started with.

"Well let's see... I teach Muggle Studies at Hogwarts and I'm the Gryffindor head of house since McGonagall is Headmistress now. Neville teaches Herbology and Seamus surprisingly teaches charms"

Harry couldn't help but laugh at that. Neville teaching came as no surprise as he always seemed to have a propensity for Herbology, but explosion prone Seamus teaching charms was funny.

"Yeah, Seamus seems to have developed a knack for it" Hermione stated.

"That is a surprise... Sometimes I wonder how the hell he didn't manage to blow himself up in school given his first year." Harry chuckled, settling back further into the couch and propping a foot up on the twins' coffee table.

"The thought has crossed my mind" Hermione returned, chuckling herself. "Let's see...who else?"

"What about Ginny? The other Weasley's? Dean?"

"Well, Ginny is getting married to Michael Corner of all people. She plays with the Harpies currently." Hermione said slowly, gauging Harry's reaction to that bit of news. Seeing a small smile grace Harry's features, she continued.

"Molly is the same as always, Arthur is the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister who happens to be Kingsley, so there isn't much surprise there. Bill and Fluer had a pair of twins named Arthur and Alastor, I don't quite know what's been going on with Percy and Charlie and Dean is a sports writer for the Daily Profit"

Harry simply sat and nodded as he digested the information he was given. 'If I have some time on this trip, I should probably visit some people' Harry thought to himself.

"Dinner is ready!" Fred and George interrupted in unison.

"Great, I'm starved. International portkeys take it out of you" Harry grinned at the mention of dinner. He stood up and stretched lightly before extending a hand to Hermione.

Hermione looked at the outstretched hand, looking exactly the same and yet so foreign. Placing a delicate hand in Harry's, she allowed him to pull him up. Once on her feet, she allowed herself to take observance of Harry's face from the way he stilled chewed his lower lip on occasion to the famed lightening bolt scar which seemed to have faded slightly but nonetheless there. With her hand still in Harry's, Hermione tugged lightly until she was able to envelop Harry in yet another hug.

"Welcome home Harry. I missed you."

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><p>The next morning once again came too quickly for Harry as he regained consciousness from his not so peaceful slumber. Grabbing is wand from the bedside table in the guest room he was currently inhabiting, he flicked his wand to see "9:42am" flash in bright red letters.<p>

"Fucking time difference" Harry muttered as he climbed slowly out of bed. Having been only 9am his time when he arrived to the twin's apartment, sleep had not been an easy task; and thoughts of his impending encounter with his relatives did not help matters.

Stretching, he shuffled into the hallway bathroom to shower before getting dressed for the day. Harry instinctively reached for his favorite set of navy blue wizard robes before thinking better of it. 'Last thing I need is to make matters worse by visiting Uncle Vernon dressed as a wizard' Harry thought morosely before settling on a pair of jeans and red polo shirt.

As Harry dressed, his stomach began to tie itself into millions of mini knots. Dread was a prevelant feeling in his heart as he was seeing his "family" for the first time in over 5 years. Harry dressed and walked to the mirror to begin his often futile attempt to make his hair look presentable before apparating to Surrey where his uncle was in the hospital.

One short apparition trip later, Harry found himself at the front door of St. Benedict Memorial Hospital. The obvious, white marble building immediate created a sense of not belonging as Harry had become accustomed to inconspicuous wizarding facilities, hospitals included. Despite his efforts of being at the hospital rea lithely early, the hospital was already exhibiting busy hustle and bustle a muggles went in and out of the building, minding their own business.

Harry took this opportunity to make an attempt at calming his nerves by standing outside, watching the crowds. He stood at the automatic sliding doors for a good while, people watching and attempting to delay what he knew what was the inevitable. Despite knowing it was no use to hesitate, second thoughts began cropping up in his mind.

'I shouldn't even bother, it's not like they want me here' Harry thought, imagining not Dudley's reaction, but that of Petunia and Vernon.

'But it's family Harry, you know that. And besides, Dudley asked you to come when he certainly didn't have to.' Said the ever so popular "voice of reason".

'Yeah, but...'

'No buts Potter. Deep down, you know you'll regret it if your uncle left this world without at least seeing him.'

Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes as the nagging voice in his head, which immediately began to sound like Hermione once again. Sighing, Harry gathered was bit of his nerves he didn't leave in America and walked in.

Despite many other differences between the muggle and wizarding world, the one thing both seemed to agree on was the nauseating scent of over-sterilization. This hospital for the most resembled Mount Merlin's Medical in America or even St. Mungos. Same white walls, same cramped waiting rooms with cheap coffee and cookies for visitors, same feeling of failed attempts to comfort those who dwell within.

"Can I help you sir?" A kindly voice asked to Harry's left, interrupting his visual inspection of the hospital. Turning towards the reception desk where the voice came from, Harry's eyes locked with those of a motherly looking nurse, who had a calming smile meant to bring peace to visitors.

Nodding, Harry made his way closer to to the desk. "Um... yes, I suppose I'm looking for Vernon Dursley's room"

"Alrighty dearie, just let me look him up...and." The nurse, "Rose" according to her name tag, replied cheerfully. "Oh dear... I'm afraid he is in the hospice ward dearie. Are you family? You'll have to be escorted in by family otherwise."

"I'm his... Nephew" Harry hesitated, not quite sure if he should truly refer to himself as such anymore.

"I see. We'll dearie, he's on the 6th floor, in room 641. Take the elevators there and it should be down the hall to your left." Rose said kindly, eyes conveying sympathy. Harry nodded slowly before muttering a quiet 'thank you'.

With heavy feet and full blown dread, Harry shuffled over to the elevator. As Harry waited patiently for the elevator, the gravity of the situation began to sink in. As Harry boarded the elevator, despite all the animosity he felt towards his aunt and uncle, one thought begin to assert its dominance:

'Uncle Vernon really is...dying'


End file.
